Do You Know Someone Who Feigns Incompetence?

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

I think my title is self-explanatory, but I am going to tell you my definition of what a person acts likes who suffers from this disorder just to make sure we have no confusion. The symptoms of Feigned or Practiced Incompetence seem to be brought on when the person afflicted with this disorder is asked to do simple tasks by a loved one.  They appear confused, befuddled, and unable to complete the task at hand even though they have been fully trained by the requestor.  They can be wily and self-serving and usually appear hard of hearing. People with this disorder come in all shapes and sizes. You may be married to one, given birth to one, or even live with someone with this problem. They can be armed and dangerous when asked to pitch in or multi-task. Please use caution when dealing with these individuals.

Has anyone ever seen the episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where Ray tells Robert to start doing things wrong so that Amy (his wife to be) stops asking him to help and just does it herself? Ray has a whole system designed to get out of helping around the house.  A couple of years ago at our family beach vacation, my brother-in-law broke the man code and admitted he has a system called Practiced Incompetence that has over the years worked quite nicely for him in getting him out of household duties.  I once saw him pack their van for their trip home from our house, while my sister-in-law was on the phone handling work business.  When he finished packing, half of their stuff was still sitting in our driveway when he declared he couldn’t get anything more in the van. He had this Practiced Incompetence thing down to an art form.  After a while, my sister-in-law happened to look out the window during the call, saw the results of his efforts, promptly cut the call short, and uttered a very bad word, using it as both a noun and an adjective, in some very loud sentences. They ended up borrowing our car top carrier for the ride home and I don’t think I have ever heard my brother-in-law asked to pack the van again.

Well, last night, yet again, we played our own version of this game. For many years now, my husband has always been the last one to come to bed. I used to ask every night, “Did you lock all the doors?” Almost every night after I asked the question, he would get this perplexed look on his face like this is the first time he had ever heard such a thing needed to be done and say, “I think I locked the doors.”  Now, I am not a detective, but I have watched enough episodes of Monk to know that when a person uses the word think in a sentence, hesitates while answering, avoids all eye contact, and has a look akin to a deer caught in the headlights plastered on his face, there is not a chance in you know what the door is locked and he knows it.

This theory has proved correct 90% of the times I have gotten up to double check that the door is indeed locked, although the jury is still out about the basement door that was technically locked one night, but still ajar. Once, I asked him how he would feel if an intruder got in through the unlocked door and kidnapped me and he never saw me again all because he forgot to lock a stupid door.   He pretended he was crying and said he would be very sad, but he and my daughter were high fiving each other and dancing around.  All I know is if someone breaks in and kills us, the last words my husband is going to hear as he is heading for the white light will be, “I told you to lock the damn door!

Which finally brings me to my point. My dogs have a routine. Every night, without fail, I walk the dogs after dinner. I am like the postman; I get the job done in all kinds of weather. If they don’t get this walk, it is a very long night because Vern is relentless in coming around and letting you know we did not follow the schedule. We have discussed this on end about how important that nightly walk is for our mental health and Vern’s well being. On some Thursdays, I meet friends in another town for dinner and my husband is home with the dogs.  Last night I got home and said, “Did the dogs get their walk?”  “What walk?” he asked and told me he had played with them instead.  Houston, we have a problem! I have tried to tell him before that kids and/or dogs do not really call “watch Daddy read a book” playtime and to come up with something else that actually makes them tired. Fudge and Vern were all but standing by my van holding their leashes and poop bags, so I loaded them up and took them to the park. 

Later that night, we had a terrible storm.  Again, my husband is the last one to come to bed.  Every single night, he comes to bed, turns the light out, and within 30 seconds Vern is beside the bed and has to go out for his last potty of the night. One night, I asked him why he didn’t take the dogs out right before he came to bed and he said, “when did we start doing that?” I calculated backwards in my head and said, “We brought Fudge home on 3/13/09, so we started doing it on 3/13/09,” and he looked shocked. This particular night, probably because he was lulled to sleep by the high winds, thunder, and tree branches banging against our windows, he was able to fall asleep in that 30 second window from the time he turned the light out to Vern’s nightly reminder that he needed to go out.  It was a miracle how his deep sleep coincided with that storm. Vern, meanwhile, was not taking no for an answer so it was left to me to brave the weather and get him outside.

Luckily, we were able to dodge the falling limbs and I weigh too much for the high winds to carry me away, because I knew no one inside our bedroom was ever going to admit to anything and come looking for me if I didn’t return. If something had happened, I could see the morning headlines now, “Woman Found Crushed by Tree in Storm. Husband Still Faking Sleep when Police Arrived.”  When I got back to our bedroom sopping wet, I thought about standing over top of him and yelling, “I won the wet T-shirt contest!” but I was too wet and tired and just knew he would say something like, “why are you all wet?” in his sleepiest sounding voice.


Well, I took some notes and one night when my husband and I sat down to dinner, he asked what I was calling this dish we were about to eat.  I said, “How about Blackened Chicken?” and he said, “How about going out to dinner?” and I said that sounded great. I think with more practice, I am going to get the hang of this Practiced Incompetence thing down.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Donna, It is nice to know that we all share something else in common :) I forgot about the toothpaste too...LOL!

Nancy, LOL....that someone sure does sound like he has this disorder :)

[Nancy, Ned, Clancy, and Charlie]

I can't cook = never learned so I don't call that feigning - could I learn?  Of course, will I learn? Nope - I have that down to a science (I don't care as much about food so...).  However, why can't anyone else in the family actually do poop duty?  Because Sunny is crated at night - someone has to stay up to let him out last thing and someone has to get up to let him out first thing.  Why is that someone me?  The other someone is sleeping - first and still.  Or when we go camping in the RV? I am braving the scary dark outside last thing at night - and this time it will be with 4 leashed dogs!!! and again at the crack of dawn too. Someone says he needs more sleep than I do! Really?

[Donna K & Quincy]

Feigned or Practiced Incompetence, I'm afraid is firmly encoded in that Y chromosome. I have managed to get DH to fold towels (badly) and match socks ( also badly) I am getting a little better at not having to have everything the way I like it. I have tried to explain that the towels only fit on the closet shelf when they are folded a certain way but I gave up, now I don't care as long as they are folded. I suffer from Little Red Hen syndrome, it is just easier to do it myself than to try and get someone else to do it. Every second sentence my son or DH utter begins with "where is".

There is an epidemic of empty tiolet tissue holders and capless toothpaste all over the world, there is no vaccine and no known cure.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

F, I need grandchildren and then I can re-read all the classics to them. I think I liked the Pokey Little Puppy :) I will conquer the Golden Books first and then who knows, what world that will open up to me?

[F, Calla & Luca]

That is serious. I think you need to find some Golden Books. I was always fond of The Litttle Engine That Could, too. Oh, so many great stories. Watch out though, this could lead to watching PBS. I found several editions of the LRH at Amazon. Would you believe they have a Kindle edition? What a world.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

F, I seriously had my hens confused. I always say to my non helpers, "remember about Henny Penny!" and now I see it is definitely the Red Hen who gets no help. Gosh, I do need to watch some smart TV or something :)

Bonnie, I forgot that too...the not being able to find anything. Good point :) At least your son is now you DIL's problem....haha!!

[Bonnie and Kona]

The minute I read the title I knew what you were talking about because my husband has mastered this art. He is famous for standing in the kitchen with his hand in the junk drawer rattling it saying, "Bonnie, where is the _______?" He never looks for anything. He figures I know where it is so why should he look. He cannot fold laundry, and if feigning to help, will fold one item for 15 min while I am folding the rest and then leaves that item in a heap and walks away. Sadly, he has passed this talent onto our son. My poor, sweet daughter-in-law!!!

[F, Calla & Luca]

Haha. No Golden Books if you're not too young to remember them, wise gal. And I know that you know Henny Penny said "The sky is falling". The Little Red Hen said "I will do it myself". But then she ate the bread herself too. Maybe I need to share this with Jane.

http://www.childrenstory.info/childrenstories/hennypenny.html

http://www.enchantedlearning.com/stories/fairytale/littleredhen/story/

I once briefly had, in a Manhattan apt., a hen named Henny Penny but that's a long story.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

F, For years now, I have been talking about Henny Penny and now I think I have the wrong hen. I think I mean the Little Red Hen. I need to get my facts straight. I bet you saw that on PBS or something. LOL

Thanks, BG

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Barbie, I guess I could excuse Zeus..LOL! I have been married a long time and we have a lot of laughs too. He reads all my blogs and laughs at everything I write about him. Unfortunately, that does not make for a funny blog...LOL.

Karen, I forgot about the toilet paper roll until I read the responses. I have actually tried to have classes here to teach my family how to change the roll and also, how to take their dirty dishes and put it directly into the dishwasher and skip the sink. No one will attend :)

Carol, Yes...playing with them is definitely a perk. What did your husband say when you told him his walk was not as long as he thought? LOL

Adina, I was cracking up reading your description of your blood relative. Thanks for the laugh :)